I'm Going Slightly Mad
by Pearl J. Woods
Summary: A random series of drabbles I hope will last, requests are currentley being accepted! Most of them are based on songs I've gotten crazy ideas in my head from, hence the title. R&R please! :


A/N: Okay, so I decided to write a few random drabbles based on some songs I hear, because I've had plot bunnies randomly hop into my head while listening to music through iTunes. Here's the first one; the song is "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by the Rolling Stones. It's got Scara and Figgy in it, so… ENJOY!

Disclaimer: For the love of the Police, I DON'T OWN WE WILL ROCK YOU, THE ROLLING STONES OR ANY OF THEIR SONGS. DON'T SUE ME.

"Hey, Fizza. Can I talk to you for a minute?" Galileo shrugged and walked over the older, greying man.

"What's up, Pop?" the Dreamer asked, head tilted to the side.

"Well son, I've been noticing the way Scaramouche treats you. It's not very nice, and she makes you do everything." The ex-librarian sighed.

"She does?" Galileo asked, eyes wide, as if he had absolutely no clue what the old man was talking about.

"Yeah, man. The last straw was yesterday. Remember?" he said in an alluring voice, causing the young artist to go into a flashback.

_ "Sweet Gods of rock Figgy, how complicated is it to re-wire an amp? I bet a GaGa off the street would be able to do it faster than you could." She spat. _

_ "But I'm trying, Scaramouche!" he replied. Goodness gracious, he only wished the Gods of Rock could give him dreams about connecting wires, that would surely facilitate the task._

_ "We've got to go on in an hour, trying doesen't do anything unless you ACCOMPLISH your job." She replied, pacing in cirlcles around the two shapes on the floor, her patience fuse growing shorter by the second. "You know what, you're completely useless for this. I'm getting Pop."_

Galileo came back from his trip to the past, head throbbing harder than his heart. He clenched his skull. "Oh, that. But she's like that all the time. It's no big deal." He started while rubbing the back of his head with his right arm, the distinctive French accent dressing his words like oil and vinegar on a salad. Speaking of vinegar, his brain felt like acid was being poured on it through a watering can; the only disadvantage to his dreams that no one but Scaramouche knew.

Pop shot him with a mean look. "Okay," he said, giving in. "I'll talk to her."

Galileo made his way to their bedroom, hearing a sweet melody on guitar. He quietly opened the door. "Scara?" he asked.

She jumped, stroked a sour chord, put her black and red guitar down on the stand her boyfriend made for her and frowned at him. "Do you REALLY have to come in here without knocking?" she scowled.

"Hey, I live here too!" he defended himself, ready to accept a blow from one of the she-rocker's comments.

"Well, knock. You're going to scare someone one of these days and give them a heart attack. And you know what's going to happen next? We're going to go out of business and go back to being REALLY bohemian. You wouldn't like that, now would you?" she argued.

"Scaramouche," he began, pointing a finger at her. He inhaled a deep breath, and remembered Pop's words. "You can't always get what you want." He stated. "Nous avons fini." He sighed, and headed for the brown wooden door. Scaramouche looked down in shame.

"Wait!" she called, getting up and placing a warm palm on his shoulder. He didn't turn like he usually would've"I never really thanked you for that stand you gave me." She said, resulting in him rotating until he was facing her, and Scaramouche looked deep into her lover's beautiful, but hurt brown eyes, something she hadn't done in a long time. "Thanks. It's great, my guitar doesn't have a single scratch on it." She told him, embracing him, and he joined in.

"Hold on." He remembered Pop's lesson. "You can't always get what you want." He affirmed her, turning his head away like a six-year-old.

"But if you try sometimes," she whispered into his ear. "you get what you need." She quickly kissed it, then walked back to her guitar. He followed, just as Pop feared he would. "What?" she chuckled.

"Could you teach me how to play?" he pouted, giving her his infamous puppy-dog face.

"Absolutley…" she thought about her words. "Yes." She smiled and hugged Galileo, then handed over the axe. He immediately started plucking random strings, creating a melody less that pleasurable to hear. She went to plug the cord back into the amp when suddenly came a

-CRASH!-

She slowly turned around.

"Figgy?" she growled.

A/N: o_O

That wasn't how I planned to end it, but oh well. Hope y'all liked it! Review and rate, please? :D

I'll take requests if anyone wants to give me a song or a plotline!


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